


Shattered Destinies

by avalonmilk



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Sex, Geralt has an ego, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, geralt is SOFT, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:14:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29912625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avalonmilk/pseuds/avalonmilk
Summary: You don’t have the best of living situations, but one day a witcher stumbles into your domain as if fate intended him to be there. (Collection of somewhat related Geralt/Reader adventures)
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Female Character(s), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	Shattered Destinies

**Author's Note:**

> General warnings: mentions of physical abuse, abusive family member, lots of sex and fluff, reader has many issues (so does Geralt tbh)
> 
> This is my first fic...ever. 
> 
> Reader is implied to be somewhat curvy and have stretch marks, but overall I tried to make it as generic and accessible as possible. I just know we need more love for stretch marks and the like!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You don’t have the best of living situations, but one day a witcher stumbles into your domain as if fate intended him to be there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: mentions of physical abuse, abusive family member, descriptions of injuries

Under the late afternoon sun, you dug into the soil with your makeshift shovel. It was essentially a rock tied to a stick, but it was the best you were going to get. It had been five years since your parents married you off, and two since your wealthy and cold-hearted ex-husband cast you out. You had been blamed for everything, of course. Now you lived with your uncle, a fellow family disappointment, in a modest cottage on the outskirts of town. The difference was, you could see why no one liked him. He was rude, selfish, and never took responsibility for anything. You were a generally agreeable person, though you didn’t react well to plain stupidity or the mistreatment of those less fortunate. If that meant you had a harsh temper and were “untamable”, so be it. 

Your uncle was away on a long hunting trip, and you didn’t expect him back for at least another four days. You appreciated the alone time, though you knew it wasn’t the time to relax. If you didn’t complete all your work to perfection, he would be very angry. 

The garden wasn’t yielding much this season, and after an hour or so of digging into the potato section you had only managed to come up with a quarter of a basket of very sad potatoes. You sighed, taking them into the house. 

Inside, you picked up the bucket to fetch water from the stream nearby. It wasn’t a long walk, but the way back felt longer than the way there. On your way back, you noticed that some of your neighbors were peeking out their windows. Gossiping and pointing. You looked around for the target. A tall, white-haired man with two swords slung on his back limped down one of the main paths. He led a horse behind him. He looked to be injured. You could have easily ignored him, that’s what your uncle would have told you to do. That’s what your ex-husband would have told you to do. But you knew in your heart that you couldn’t let him continue to suffer a minute longer while the villagers gawked at his appearance. You rushed to him. “Sir, may I help you?” 

He stopped and looked at you for a moment, “I’ll be fine.” He said it with a grunt you could hear just enough pain in you knew he was not fine. 

“How did you get hurt?” you asked. 

“Monsters,” he replied simply. “I’m a witcher, it’s just what I do.” 

You huffed. He seemed to be quite stubborn, but you were determined to do some good for once, “Come back to my house, I can try to take care of your wounds.” 

“Your neighbors might think you strange,” he looked around, noticing the attention he was getting. 

“I don’t care what they think,” you said quietly. “Please, let me help.” You held out a shaky hand and he finally took it, letting you lead him back to your house. 

He tied up his horse outside. Once inside, you sat him down on a chair. You knelt down to his injured leg, inspecting the wounds up close. You moved to remove his boot, looking up at him and asking permission silently. He nodded and you slid it off, moving his foot into your lap. A long gash dragged up from his knee to almost his hip, but it wasn’t too deep. It was nothing you couldn’t manage, but you imagined it was quite painful. “Why didn’t you ride your horse into town?” you asked. 

“Riding hurt worse,” the witcher hissed. 

“And you were going to just leave this alone?” you noted the scars visible through the tear on his trousers. “It could get infected with all that dirt in there.” 

He shrugged, “I drank a potion to help with the venom, so it would heal on its own eventually.” 

All men were infuriating sometimes. Even strong and attractive ones, it seemed. But you didn’t comment on it in favor of polite conversation. “What’s your name?” 

“Geralt,” he replied as you went to fetch a cloth and bandages. “Yours?” 

You told him. Returning to your place on the floor by him, you hesitantly spoke again, “I think I’m going to have to ask you to take off your trousers.” 

He blinked at you for only a moment, before, wordlessly, briefly rising to slide them off. You tried not to glance up too high in fear of what you might see. You dipped the cloth into the water you had just fetched and began to clean the dirt from the edges of the gash. He grimaced slightly, but kept quiet. You figured he was used to pain to be this calm, because it had to sting pretty badly. But it would be better for him in the end to have a clean, bandaged wound. 

You began to wrap up his leg in thick linen. You were no expert, but you’d certainly treated a fair amount of minor injuries. There was no proper healer except in town, and many could not afford to go there. So, you tried the best you could to help those in the outskirts. Much to the disdain of your uncle, of course. You would face his full wrath if he knew you had brought a witcher in. 

Suddenly, the witcher cried out as you pulled the bandage a little too tight. Startled, you jumped back, hitting the floor with a thud as you fell into an awkward position. You scrambled to collect yourself. “Sorry,” you muttered. 

“It’s alright,” he replied. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

“No, no,” you stammered. “I should have been more careful…” You slowly continued your handiwork. 

Geralt looked down at you with concern, “You’re afraid of me.” 

“I-" You struggled to find the words. “It’s not you I’m afraid of…” 

“I can smell fear,” he stated. 

“I guess I’m a little afraid of most men,” you murmured, finally tying off the bandage. “Loud noises frighten me.” 

“There’s a man who lives here,” Geralt observed. “Are you married?” 

“No, it’s my uncle,” you replied. “He’s away hunting for a few more days. I used to be married, but my husband threw me out.” 

Geralt gave you a look you couldn’t quite decipher, “Can I ask why?” 

You sighed, “He was quite well-off, in the way that no honest man is, never really cared for anyone but himself. He said my kindness annoyed him.” 

Geralt nodded, finally understanding. “I’ve killed monsters like that.” 

“Monsters that behave like men?” 

“No,” he looked into your eyes with his golden stare. “Men like that are monsters.” 

“I see,” you replied, breaking the eye contact. “You should lie down for a bit, I’ll make you some food.” 

Once you got the witcher settled into your bed, he seemed to finally accept your tender care. You started on a soup, as it was really all you could make with your pathetic selection of ingredients. You had to wonder sometimes what you’d be eating if your uncle didn’t spend every spare coin on gambling. You thought Geralt deserved a better meal than what you could serve him right now. 

When the soup was ready, you went to inform Geralt. You found him very comfortable in your bed and he seemed to be half asleep. You felt a little bad summoning him to the table for the meal. 

But when he sat down, he certainly seemed grateful. He practically inhaled his bowl. 

“Been a while since you’ve eaten?” you asked with a smirk. 

He slowed down a bit. “Yes, sorry,” he apologized. 

“Oh, I was only curious, I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” you smiled at him. “There’s enough for seconds, too.” 

He finished his bowl and was happy to be served another shortly after. Once you had both eaten your fill, you sent him to lie down again and rest. Cleaning up the kitchen, you couldn’t stop thinking about what those strong arms would feel like embracing you, holding you. So, once you were done, you were stepping into your room again to peek in at the witcher. He seemed awake this time. “I’ve been wondering when you might come back,” he said nonchalantly. You blinked at him, confused. “Come here, you can join me.” 

Your jaw dropped. It’s not like it sounded like a terrible idea, but you were shocked at how straightforward he was. “I’m not sure—"

“I know what women usually want from me,” he began, his eyes conveying desire. “A quick, hot fuck before I take my leave. I’m happy to provide, come here.”

“That’s not…” You again struggled to speak. 

His eyes softened and he slowly sat up, patting a place on the bed next to him. Without thinking, you sat where he indicated. “How long has it been?” he asked softly. 

“Two years,” you whispered. 

He slowly reached towards your hair, you pulled away out of habit. He dropped his hand immediately, not wanting to touch you in any way if you didn’t want it. “I’m sorry you haven’t been treated the way you deserve.” 

In a way, it surprised you for a man like this, who killed monsters for a living, who seemed proud of killing men, to be so careful. Never in your life had you experienced a man like this. You were sure of it, Geralt must be a gift from the gods. “If you want to have me, you can,” you said quietly. “I just ask that you not look at me too closely.” 

Geralt half-smiled, “I only want to have you if you want me.”

“I’m not sure what I want,” you murmured. 

“That’s alright,” he said. “Is there a reason you don’t want me to see you?” 

You didn’t know why, but you felt safe with him. With this man who could crush you if he wanted. You turned your back to him, sliding your blouse down your shoulders just enough to expose your upper back, covered in deep bruises and a few welts. 

Geralt inhaled and let out a growl, “Don’t tell me…” You weren’t sure what reaction you were expecting. You felt him shift behind you. “May I touch you?” he whispered. You nodded, and he softly ran his fingers over your upper shoulders. He was trying to comfort you, but his touch felt like lightning. You involuntarily let out a soft moan and felt heat rush straight to your core. In this moment, you realized that you did want him. You thought he could probably smell that now, too. 

You turned to face him, nervously. Your eyes met his. He leaned down to kiss you softly. His lips were rough, scratching at your own in a way that felt absolutely delicious. It made you crave more. You gripped his upper biceps in need while he wrapped his arms around you and held you close. 

When you broke apart for just a moment, Geralt thought for a moment. “I’d pull you into my lap, but I don’t think you’d approve of that for my healing,” he smirked slightly. 

You huffed, “I certainly wouldn’t.” Geralt let out a chuckle and pushed you down onto the bed with a playful look in his eyes. He leaned over you and pressed kisses down your neck. He toyed with the strings of your vest until you nodded your permission for him to untie them. He didn’t seem to be in a huge hurry, but his need was apparent. He pulled your vest off, leaving your loose blouse to puff out around you. You glanced downward for just a split second and noticed the outline of the bulge in his underwear. It didn’t scare you, but it did worry you just a bit. 

“Do you want to see it?” he asked, his mouth close to your ear. He lightly nipped at your earlobe. 

You gasped and blushed, for some reason embarrassed that he had noticed your quick glance. “I—it looks big,” you observed. 

Geralt chuckled, “You’re incredibly cute. Have you not taken a big one before?” 

“No,” you admitted. “But the fucking part has never felt that good to me, anyway.” 

Geralt hummed and moved to take off his shirt and underwear. You admired his body for just a moment, then moved to take off your own clothes, but Geralt stopped you. “May I?” he asked, bringing his hands to the hem of your blouse. You smiled and nodded. He peeled away the layers of your blouse and skirt, leaving him free to finally touch your skin. He continued carefully, running his large hands down your arms to your hips to your legs. You shivered underneath his soft touches like sparks buzzing along your skin. “If you tell me to stop, I’ll stop,” he murmured against your flesh as he kissed up your shoulder. You nodded in agreement, so far wanting anything but for him to stop. He traced a finger down the faint stretch marks on your upper thighs. “You’re so beautiful…” he said softly. 

The compliment made you blush. You weren’t used to being complimented by your lovers. Your ex-husband had really only spoken directly to you when he wished to argue or berate you for something you’d done. To experience such tenderness and restraint from a man who clearly wanted you so badly was something new and exciting. You hoped this wasn’t the last time you felt this way. 

Suddenly, the fingers tracing your hip were replaced by lips. As he kissed towards the center, you looked down at him. He gave you a mischievous glance and kissed your mound of curls softly. Your eyes widened, “You aren’t going to—I mean, there?” The words weren’t coming out quite right. 

“If you mean am I going to ravish your delicious cunt, then yes,” he stated with no hesitation. 

“It’s just—" you struggled to find words again. He patiently waited for your answer. “No one has ever done that to me before.” 

His eyes softened once again. A moment of pity. But then they were alight with excitement. He slid his arms under your legs to pull you closer to his mouth. “Well then, you’re in for a delight.” 

Before you could say another word, he was parting your lips and immediately sucked your clit into his mouth. You cried out in pleasure, not realizing how swollen it had become with your arousal. “Fuck, it feels so good.” 

“Better than the rest?” he asked against your clit. 

“Oh, absolutely,” you sighed. You felt him smile as he slid a finger into your soaking entrance. Finally, you saw the ego that every man seemed to have. Geralt enjoyed thinking he was the best and, even though he didn’t seem to be the most expressive person, he seemed immensely proud of making you feel this way with a new experience. He slid in another finger, pressing his tongue against your clit. You could hardly contain yourself as he curled them both upwards, prodding for the spot inside of you that would make you scream. It didn’t take long and he felt you clench around his fingers as he rammed them into it. He replaced his tongue with his thumb, circling your clit. He moved back up to lean over you. 

“I can finish you like this first, or I can fuck you right now,” he growled into your ear. 

“I’m not sure if it’s possible, a man has never—" 

“Nevermind, I’ll make the choices here,” Geralt hissed and nipped at your neck. 

You couldn’t find the words to argue with him as he worked you in a way that made a pressure build inside that you had only ever felt when you touched yourself alone at night. Yet, somehow, the way he did it felt even better. Maybe it was the angle, but he seemed to touch you effortlessly. 

“You’re going to come for me,” it was a statement and a command he uttered. He looked down at your face as you responded only with moans. Only seconds later, you felt the pressure build inside of you and you realized he was right. 

“I’m going to—" you started, but broke off into a cry. 

“That’s it, I’ve got you,” Geralt assured as you came with a scream. The burst was intense and set every nerve in your body on fire. He slowed his movements just a bit, carefully working you through the orgasm. Dragging it out as long as he could. “Are you alright?” He asked as you sighed in relief. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you nodded. 

“Think you can take my cock?” he asked. 

“I suppose I can try,” you breathed. 

“Don’t worry,” he began as he adjusted your position on the bed. “You just lie there and enjoy it.” You were grateful he was taking the lead, as your body was left weak by your unexpectedly powerful orgasm. “I’ll start slow, okay?” he pressed a kiss to your forehead and positioned his cock at your entrance. He slid in just a little at the time, and it might have hurt if you were not still reveling in post-climax bliss. Your juices coated him and made it even easier. You felt him deep within you, still not fully sheathed. 

He let out a groan as he pushed the last bit in. “It’s all in,” he muttered. “Fuck, you’re tight.” You whimpered in response. He moved slowly at first, gradually picking up his pace. He shifted your hips until he was thrusting upward, right into the same wonderful spot that he’d used to make you climax only moments ago. Your mind drifted away, only able to moan and whisper his name as he filled you completely. 

He certainly had a great deal of stamina, barely breaking a sweat several minutes into fucking you. He pulled your leg up over his shoulder and set an even faster pace, finally assured that you were ready for it. “I want you to come again,” he grunted as he slipped a hand down to rub your clit. You were already on your way there, much to your surprise. You had never had an orgasm like the one he gave you earlier, and you had certainly never had two in a row. It all felt so exciting and compounded your pleasure. 

“Geralt, I’m going to…soon,” you managed to groan out as you lost yourself in the feelings. 

“Good girl,” he murmured. His praise sent you flying over the edge again as he continued thrusting right through it and shortly after came inside you with a grunt. He pulled himself out and collapsed next to you. 

As you came to your senses again, panic rushed over you, “Oh no, you came inside me didn’t you…” 

“Us mutants are sterile, it’s fine,” he replied, as if he had answered the question a thousand times. 

“How’s your leg?” you asked him. 

“Feels alright,” he said. “I think the good company helped.” 

You giggled in response. “It’s dark out, I think it’s time to sleep,” you observed. 

“I think I can manage that,” chuckled Geralt. He lightly pushed you to turn over so he could spoon you, pulling you close to his chest. He looked at your bruises again, tracing them with his fingers. “There’s no reason for a woman to be beaten like this.” 

“In a way, I suppose it’s what I deserve for not being able to keep a good husband,” you shrugged. 

“Now that’s the kind of comment I would certainly like to spank you for, if we weren’t so comfortable in your bed,” Geralt replied with a very serious tone. 

“So even you would hit a woman if she deserved it.” 

“No, I said I’d spank a woman if she deserved it by insinuating that she deserves such violence,” he insisted. “And never, ever past her limits.”

“Is that different?” 

“Oh, I wish I could show you how,” murmured Geralt against your hair. 

“But I suppose you’ll be gone the moment the sun rises,” you sighed, a bit of sadness creeping in. 

“Usually, that’s when I’d set out,” he hummed. “But I promise I won’t leave before saying goodbye properly.”

You smiled, “That’s kind of you.” 

Geralt said nothing as he began to stroke your hair softly as you drifted into sleep.


End file.
